To Carry You Home
by saiyanwizard
Summary: Early one morning, Albus Dumbledore comes to the Burrow to deliver some bad news to Molly and Arthur: their son has been injured in a Ministry attack. A oneshot with slight OotP spoilers. Inspired by Annie Lennox’s Into the West.


**Summary:** Early one morning, Albus Dumbledore comes to the Burrow to deliver some bad news to Molly and Arthur: their son has been injured in a Ministry attack. A one-shot with slight OotP spoilers. Inspired by Annie Lennox's "Into the West." Contains no slash.

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling was the wonderful person who created Harry Potter. She owns it all. I only borrowed some characters. But I promise to put them back!

Hey guys, it's me again! If you didn't know, I'm the author of _The Burdens of an Old Headmaster, My Poor Werewolf Child, _and _A Blissful Sleep._ I'm out once again to deliver a story that you, the reader, will truly enjoy. So, enjoy!

saiyanwizardgurl

To Carry You Home

"Are you all right, sir?"

"Yes. I didn't catch too much of the blast. Just scratched up my arm a bit."

"And only two of you were in the office today?"

"Yes. Everyone else was off on Ministry business."

"I see."

"Hey, Arn! Get over here! I found the other guy!"

"Is he all ri – oh, my goodness! Is he...dead?"

"No, I can still feel his pulse!"

"Quick, we need to get him out of here!"

……………..

Albus Dumbledore Apparated into Ottery St. Catchpole. The headmaster was barely visible in the early morning sunlight, which was just beginning to peak out from beyond the horizon. He strolled along a crooked path to an odd looking house. The reason this house looked so strange was that it was the home of the Weasleys, a wizard family that was known for its flaming red hair. This house, known as the Burrow, was a very odd structure with its many rooms, windows, and chimneys sticking out here and there. He could hear a few chickens from the hen house. _How odd_, he thought._ Is it just me, or is the sound of chickens getting louder?_

Walking up to the front door, Dumbledore quickly found the problem. One of the chickens had gotten out of the hen house and was following the headmaster up the drive. "Hey," said Dumbledore to the chicken, "what do you think you're doing?"

The chicken replied by pecking at the ground near the headmaster's feet.

Smiling to himself, Dumbledore pulled out his wand and waved it. A small shower of chicken feed sprinkled out from the tip in front of the chicken. The chicken cocked its head for a moment and, deciding that the chicken feed was for her, began to peck at it.

Apparently satisfied that the chicken had accepted his offering, the headmaster knocked on the front door. He heard the clang of something on wood, the scraping of chair legs, and the shuffle of feet heading towards the door. The lock clicked and the door swung open. "Albus?"

Arthur Weasley stood in the doorway, staring blankly at Dumbledore. He was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, which told the headmaster that Arthur did not have to go into work today. "Good morning, Arthur. I hope I am not disturbing you and your family?"

"Of course not! Please, come in."

"Thank you."

The headmaster followed Arthur into the kitchen, where Molly Weasley was currently preparing breakfast. "Oh, Arthur, could you please pass me the – oh, hello, Albus. What brings you here?"

"I am afraid I have come to be the bearer of bad news."

"Bad news? Please sit down and explain," said Arthur pulling up a chair for the headmaster.

"Thank you, Arthur," said Dumbledore, sitting down in the chair.

Molly waved her wand and a pot of tea and teacups appeared at the table. She poured out two cups and handed them to the headmaster and her husband. "So," she said, returning to her cooking, "what's the bad news?"

"It appears there was an attack at the Ministry early this morning."

"Another one?" said Arthur. "Where?"

"The attack was made in the Records Division of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement by Algernon Fince. Severus has told me that he is a newly recruited Death Eater."

"I see," said Arthur. "What did he want?"

"I'm not sure, but there were two Ministry employees in the Records Division at the time of the attack," said Dumbledore.

"Who was there?"

"One of the employees from the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Peter Portson. He was working with another employee to file a report about the recent additions to Azkaban."

"Who was he working with?"

Dumbledore sighed. "Your son, Percy."

The two wizards suddenly heard the sound of shattering glass. Whatever Molly had been putting away had slipped out of her hands and shattered. Hot tears welled up in her eyes and raced silently down her cheeks. Her knees buckled under her and she began to cry softly, her shoulders shaking violently. Arthur, who had turned as white as chalk, rushed over to his wife, sat down beside her, and enveloped her into a hug. She covered her mouth with her hands and let out a small whimper.

With a sympathetic look at the poor couple that was sitting on the kitchen floor, Dumbledore cleared the broken shards of glass and sat down with them. He put a gently hand on Molly's back and began to rub it reassuringly.

They stayed like this for a few minutes until Arthur found his voice. "How – how is he? H-he's not –"

"No, Arthur, I can assure you he's not dead," said Dumbledore, "But he was seriously wounded in the attack. He was accepted into St. Mungo's shortly after the attacker was captured."

……………..

Early morning light streamed across the freckled face of a young sleeping man. Flaming red hair contrasted oddly with his face, which was just as white as the sheets that were covering him. The only color present on the young man's face was from the dark circles under his eyes. He made no movement; it seemed that he was in a blissful sleep. There was only one problem: Percy Weasley was not sleeping.

His eyes were closed, but he was wide awake. Being under the sheets kept him warm, but every inch of his body ached. He wanted to roll over onto his stomach (his back was killing him), but his body felt like it was being weighed down by lead. His thoughts were fuzzy. _I wonder where I am, _he thought. _Why am I so tired?_ An image flew across his mind. _Peter Portson. Algernon Fince in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. An explosion. Hitting a wall and then…nothing._ Suddenly, he remembered…

His eyes snapped open and he sat up quickly. Bad move. A stream of pain shot up his back, through his neck, and into his head. The pain was so severe that he quickly put his head in his hands. His head was spinning.

He suddenly felt the bed dip slightly and a hand was placed on his back. After a few moments, his head felt a little better and the pain had somewhat subsided. He looked up into the worried face of Molly Weasley. "Mum?"

She quickly pulled her son into a tight hug, but not before he saw the tears welling up in her eyes. He sat dumbfounded, completely lost for words. When he found his voice, he said, "What are you doing here?"

"What are we doing here?" said Molly, pulling out of the hug and holding her son by his shoulders. "We came to see you!"

"We?" he asked.

Another hand slipped onto his shoulder. Percy turned around and looked into the concerned face of Arthur Weasley. "Dad?"

"Hello, Percy," said Arthur.

"But…why?" asked Percy, dropping his gaze to the white bed sheets. He had been planning to confront his parents about his unacceptable behavior over the past year, but building up the courage to do so was another story. "I've been nothing but cruel to you for the last year. I yelled at both of you last summer, I packed up and left without telling you, I sent back your Christmas package, I didn't even come to visit Dad when he was here!" By the time he had finished, silent tears were streaming down his face.

Suddenly, warm, gentle arms encased him in a hug. "Oh, honey," said Molly, "we know you've made some careless mistakes, but we love you, sweetheart, so please don't cry."

He did not want to cry. He wanted to show his parents that he was strong. He wanted to be a son that they could be proud of. But he had messed up. He had screwed up so bad that there was no chance of repair. And yet, they still accepted him back. They had not turned their backs on him like they should have done, but were reaching out to him with open arms.

He managed to whisper, "Oh, Mum, Dad, I'm so sorry," before he began to cry hard. He was slouched over and his shoulders were shaking. He was tired and in pain. He was miserable because he had hurt so many people, but he was back where he belonged, and that's all that mattered.

Thanks for reading! Please review! And if you have time, please check out my other stories!


End file.
